


Gabe and Jesse

by Sarcastic_Metaphor



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure Time AU, Ice King!Reaper, Marceline!Jesse, Other, kinda sad ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 10:57:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8486701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcastic_Metaphor/pseuds/Sarcastic_Metaphor
Summary: Gabriel Reyes had everything before the war; his fiancé, his archaeology career, and his life. By the time the war ended, Gabe had nothing but that damned mask and a seven year old in tow. (Adventure Time AU!)





	1. Gabe And Jesse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an Adventure Time AU where Gabe is in the place of the Ice King, his mask is the equivalent of the Ice King's crown, and Jesse is Marceline. Gabe came to meet lil Jesse after the Omnic Crisis ended with nuclear warfare and eradicated most life on earth, and the plot follows the Adventure Time episode, “Simon and Marcy”. (One of my personal favorites!) And correct me if I’m wrong, but “Jessito” would be how an adult would call a small child named Jesse in Spanish.

Gabriel Reyes was in his early thirties when the war started. He was a prospective archaeologist, blessed to be in the same line of work as his fiancé, Jack. The discovery that won Gabe his fame was an ancient mask found deep in the _sierra madre occidental_ in Mexico. Buried beneath the earth in an abandoned village, it was freakishly well preserved.

When he first found it, Gabe spent a good fifteen minutes just running his fingers over the miraculous material it was made from; black iron that had somehow yet to rust, and smooth white stone. The mask was expertly carved into the shape resembling a goat’s skull, yet strangely lacked any horns, or even signs of where decorative horns might have been. And then there was the short inscription on the inside of the mask. It roughly translated to _“Death walks among you.”_ How imposing.

So Gabe had to conclude that the mask was not meant for ritualistic or religious purposes. Seeing as how it was made of such sturdy material, and metal Gabriel had never seen so well preserved before, he _had_ to conclude that it was designed for combat.

He displayed what he dubbed the _Reaper’s Mask,_ along with the rest of his and Jack’s findings, in an exhibition that finally gained him the recognition and prestige he deserved. When the show was over and everyone else had left, Gabe and Jack were still here admiring their findings. Then Gabe had an idea; he asked his fiancé to take a picture of him with the Reaper’s Mask on. It was supposed to be funny. It was supposed to celebrate their success. But the moment Gabe could see through those slitted eye holes, his whole world was consumed with black smoke.

Gabe had no idea what he said, or what he might have done. But when that mask came off, Jack was staring at him with tears in his eyes, shaking where he stood.

_What did he do?_

Gabe reached out for his fiancé with trembling fingers, but Jack had only turned away from him and ran.

Gabe couldn’t find him after that, because the war between humans and omnics began. Year after year, death and destruction and chaos were all the world knew until the humans grew desperate enough to use nuclear weaponry.

Gabe was one of the very, very, _very_ few who lived to see the aftermath of that catastrophe.

|===|

Weeks had passed since the silence took over, and Gabe was dead set on traveling the entirety of the former U.S. in order to find his fiancé. The only weapon he carried with him, besides his bare fists and the pack on his back, was the Reaper’s Mask.

Gabe hated the mask. He hated what the mask made him do and the monster it turned him into, but it was his strongest weapon. And although he was never much of a religious man, Gabe had to acknowledge the near-demonic, unearthly power of the mask, and that it most likely did not belong in the hands of a mortal man.

How ironic it was, that the mask was the only thing keeping him alive.

It gave Gabe the power to phase through solid objects like a deathly specter, moving with the unsettling grace of black smoke. In once instance, Gabe swore that he had even jumped from one spot to another more than fifty feet away, but he wasn’t sure how. And he was stronger, more durable too. Any wound that managed to make it past his leather trenchcoat and metal armor healed within seconds.

But the real reason Gabe kept the mask were the _guns._ Because who would want to bother carrying heavy weapons and cumbersome boxes of ammunition when you could _summon_ them right at your fingertips?

Black shotguns solidified in his hands the moment he needed them while wearing the mask. They tore through metal, flesh, and bones with ease and cut a clear path for Gabe whenever he needed. To anyone or anything that had the misfortune of looking down the end of those twin guns, then they were more akin to omens of death.

And death Gabriel caused. It was a sick, twisted feeling in his gut that the mask put inside of him. He loved watching blood splatter and body parts go flying. And he could never remember exactly what happened after each kill, but always came back into consciousness stronger, more stated. It left Gabe caring a little bit less that he was losing control, and yet still wanting more.

And that scared him.

It scared him even more than the husks of the remaining omnics that still wandered the land in search of fresh destruction. It scared him more than the rare, crawling, mutated remains that replaced most people on the planet. It scared him more than the pale patches that grew across his own skin, losing nearly all pigment and growing into an ashen, sickly hue. It scared him more than the fact that after each time wearing the mask, his dark brown eyes got just a little bit redder.

And it scared him so much because it meant that Gabe was painfully aware of his mind slipping like sand through an hourglass. And he was deathly afraid of what would take over when he was completely gone.

|===|

Gabe was trekking across the American Southwest when he came across a little town in the desert. The whole town was blown to unsalvageable bits, and Gabe recognised the sight of bomb craters.

He was walking down an abandoned street lined with shops when he saw him.

At first, Gabe thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. It had been too long since he’d seen another living human and he slowly moved closer, wary of a trap. It was only when he heard a tiny, defeated voice sniffling and softly saying, “Mama, mama…” did he break into a sprint.

Gabe stopped and knelt in front of the little boy. He couldn’t have been older than six or seven. His clothes were scuffed up and dark red flecks stained his shirt. His hair was a mess and tears were freely falling down his cheeks. Gabe tried to gently wipe some of them away.

The little boy was so in shock he didn’t even try to run away from Gabe, a complete stranger. The poor boy was shaking in his boots, crying softly for his missing mother.

Gabe bit his lip and looked around the street. He spotted a little shop and ran over to it. He reached through the shattered window and pulled out a bright red _serape_. He ran back over to the child, and wrapped the cloth over his shoulders. The boy clutched the fabric closer to his frame like a security blanket. It was far too big for him, but the little boy looked up at Gabe with eyes full of gratitude.

And Gabe couldn’t help but smile down at him, at this little child looking at a monster like himself as if he were an angel. But not even he was cruel enough to abandon a child in a world like this, and the boy had no problem following Gabe in his quest to find Jack. But before they left, the boy pointed at a hat in the same shop’s display, and Gabe pulled it off the mannequin. It was too big for the boy’s head, but it made him happy.

They wandered off into the sunset, with Gabe finally finding something more precious than that damned mask.

|===|

They were in the pacific northwest scrounging for food. The hiker’s backpack on Gabe’s back was even heavier because of his companion’s extra clothes and rations, but Gabe wasn’t selfish enough to complain about it.

They were following the border of a forest when they came across a delivery truck turned over on it’s side. Gabe pried the back doors open and deemed it safe before picking up his traveling partner to let him look around the truck.

“What do you see, Jesse? Anything good?”

Gabe knew they weren’t going to find anything valuable in there, but it lessened the stress to see that kid having fun.

“I found a dead rat.”

Gabe laughed from outside the truck, subtly keeping a lookout. “So we got a new traveling buddy, do we?”

“Ew, _gross!”_

Gabe laughed as Jesse came crawling over the boxes inside and reached for Gabe to help him out. They continued on their way before Jesse stopped to tug on his sleeve.

“Gabe, look over there.”

Gabe was already half-reaching for the mask tied to his belt when he turned around. But instead, he was pleasantly surprised to see an old acoustic guitar lying half-buried beneath some rubble. Gabe dusted the old instrument off and looked it over. When he tried it out, it didn’t sound half bad. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Good eye, Jesse. I wouldn’t have spotted this thing.”

Jesse was beaming as they continued on their way. Gabe quietly strummed out the few chords he still remembered. It wasn’t much, but it was something to pass the time.

After a while, Jesse pulled on the hem of Gabe’s shirt.

“You play real good, Gabe.”

“You mean I play well, _Jessito_.”

Jesse pouted. Gabe couldn’t help but laugh at those puff-out cheeks. He wondered if it meant he was going soft when he wanted to pinch them like his grandmother.

They carried on for a while more, Gabe and Jesse humming to the guitar, when they heard rustling coming from the nearby brush. Jesse tugged at Gabe’s hoodie and pointed at some shaking bushes just a few yards away.

“What’s that, Gabe?”

Gabe took hold of Jesse’s hand. “I don’t know, but it’s coming our way.”

Gabe hoisted Jesse up into his arms and ran. He found an abandoned car lying on the side of a road. It was missing it’s engine, and it’s windows were smashed in, but that was all Gabe needed. He plopped Jesse down inside the car and dropped the guitar besides him.

“Jesse, you stay here. I’ll be back, okay?”

“No!” Before Gabe could turn around, Jesse grabbed his hood and pulled him closer to the car.

“You aren’t gonna put it on, are ya Gabe?”

Gabe bit his lip. He didn’t want Jesse to be scared of him, but he still had to protect them.

“I have to, _Jesstio,_ I have to.”

Jesse’s little fists didn’t let of of his hoodie. “But _why?”_

Gabe put his hands on top of Jesse’s. “To protect us, Jesse.”

Jesse pouted, and meanwhile that rustling sound was growing louder.

“But you’re gonna start acting creepy again. You get scary when you put it on.”

The panic in Jesse’s voice broke Gabe’s heart, but he wasn’t going to risk getting them killed over it. He quickly patted the top of Jesse’s head.

“Don’t worry, I can control it better now.”

Neither of them were very convinced, but Gabe pulled Jesse closer to plant a light, quick kiss on his forehead.

“I promise I’ll be right back.”

Gabe turned away from the car, ignoring how Jesse shouted his name. Gabe’s heart was racing as something was rustling through the brush. He pulled the mask from its tie on his belt loop and looked down at it.

He was holding both his damnation and salvation at the same time.

Gabe closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and ignoring the ominous thundering of his heart, put the mask on. Immediately, he was consumed in a whirlwind of black smoke.

When the smoke receded, Gabe wasn’t standing there anymore. It was the Reaper.

He summoned one of his shotguns and fired it into the brush. The gunshot rang out across the field and something jumped from the bushes. It wasn’t the rusting, battered form of a corrupted omnic or the deformed husk of a mutated human.

It was just a deer, but to the Reaper it was prey. The animal stood on shaking legs as the Reaper approached it, gliding smoothly across the grass. Where he traveled, a trail of black, dead flora was left in his path.

The Reaper unloaded his shotgun at the unfortunate animal. He fired at the ground to scare the animal before shooting out it’s legs. When the shotgun shells were empty, the Reaper dropped the gun and summoned a new one. It was a while before he heard a small voice calling his name, and stirred something deep within the Reaper.

He looked over to see the little boy standing behind him. Gabe roared from within the Reaper’s subconscious, putting more priority into Jesse than their target.

The Reaper was prepared to ignore the child rather than kill him, but then the boy picked up a rock and _threw it_ at him. The Reaper hissed in surprise, and suddenly his mask came loose.

Gabe gasped as the mask fell from his face and he regained control of his own limbs. The shotgun he was holding evaporated into smoke. But Gabe couldn’t care less. He ran over to Jesse and hugged him tightly.

“Gabe…”

The man sighed. He lost control again. He had lied. “I know, Jesse.”

But the child shook his head. “No Gabe, you’re getting worse. The patches in your skin are getting paler. Your eyes are redder too. And when the mask fell off, _he_ didn’t leave as fast.”

He knew that Jesse was afraid of the Reaper. Gabe dropped one knee and held Jesse closer. He already knew he was getting worse. He would get worse the longer that mask was in his possession.

“I’m sorry, _Jesito.”_

Jesse hugged him closer. “Promise ya won’ put it on again. Please?”

Gabe didn’t want to say yes, because he would ultimately break his promise, and that would be lying to Jesse again. But the boy needed to understand Gabe was okay for now.

Gabe patted Jesse’s head. “Alright, _Jesito._ I promise.”

“Thank you.” Jesse finally let go of him.

Gabe stood and then Jesse saw the dead deer. He clutched Gabe’s leg, and he had to quickly turned Jesse’s head away so he couldn’t look at the corpse.

“What was that thing, Gabe?”

“It was just a deer, Jesse.”

“Not dangerous?”

Gabe shook his head. “No, but we’re safer now.”

Jesse asked, “If there are deers around here, do ya think there could be other things too? Bad things?”

Gabe gently ran a hand through Jesse’s hair. “I don’t know.”

|===|

That night, the two of them pulled some fallen logs into a circle and started a campfire in the center. They ate deer for dinner.

Gabe sang some of the Spanish songs his father sang to him to calm Jesse’s nerves. Being of hispanic descent himself, Jesse easily picked up on most of the words. Then he wanted to try playing the guitar, and Gabe couldn’t say no that face.

Although, it was adorable to see Jesse’s little frame hold that guitar. In the end, Gabe had to hold the chords as Jesse strummed. Later, Gabe unrolled the only sleeping bag they had for Jesse to sleep in. Then he unpacked the red serape from the bottom of his backpack, and gave it to Jesse to use it as his extra blanket.

Gabe stayed awake a while longer in order to keep watch. The fire helped light the area and the stars above them were so much brighter without light pollution from the cities.

It was a while before Gabe felt something poking his leg.

“Gabe?”

He looked down to see Jesse still awake and looking up at him.

“What’s wrong, _Jessito?”_

Jesse shook his head. “I can’ sleep.”

Gabe moved to sit closer to Jesse. “Well then, what should we do to fix this problem?”

He already knew the answer, however. It was clear when Jesse’s eyes lit up with stars.

“Tell me stories about the world before the war.”

Gabe ruffled Jesse’s hair. “There’s no point in talking about the past we can’t have.”

He didn’t give Jesse the chance to pout before continuing, “But I suppose there’s no hurting in it either.”

Gabe sometimes wondered why Jesse was so interested in the world before the war. It began _years_ before Jesse was even born, seeing as how Gabe was getting into his mid-forties now. Maybe it was more like a fantasy bedtime story for the boy.

Either way, Gabe began with, “It was a very long time ago. Back then, there were buildings that were so tall, they seemed to touch the sky. They were called-”

“Skyscrapers!” Jesse finished, “You already talked ‘bout those.”

Gabe chuckled. “Good memory, _Jessito._ But the world back then wasn’t really all that interesting. There were a lot more people, and we all had different jobs an-”

“What was your job?”

Gabe smiled and lightly tapped the top of Jesse’s head. “Will you let me finish anything?”

Jesse chirped, “Nope.”

The man laughed. “I was an archaeologist, Jesse. I studied human history through objects-”

“-like the mask?"

Jesse’s tone had quieted substantially. Gabe couldn’t help but feel guilty when he said, “Yes.”

Jesse was quiet after that, and between the deer and the mask, Gabe didn’t want him going to sleep upset.

“You… uh, want to hear about Jack?”

It was almost funny how quickly Jesse perked up. But at least he had good reason to. Gabe almost never talked about Jack, besides the fact that he was simply searching for him in the wastelands of the world.

“What did he look like?”

Gabe absentmindedly rubbed Jesse’s back as he talked.

“His hair was blond, and he had bright blue eyes that sparkled when he told me stories about his day. And he was a little on the short side, actually. But when he talked, he seemed tall. Everytime he spoke at meetings and functions, _everyone_ paid attention to him.

 Jesse looked up at him. “Was he nice?”

Gabe laughed, “The nicest. A real boyscout.”

He looked up at the stars, wondering if Jack was looking up at them too.

“And one day, I’m going to find him.”

“And then you’ll get married, right?”

Gabe looked down at his hand. He often forgot that he still wore his engagement ring, and Gabe twisted it around his finger.

“Well, I think just finding him will be enough.”

Jesse sniffled and yawned. “That sounds nice. Then I’ll get two of y’alls.”

He was starting to drift off, but what Jesse said struck a chord with Gabe. _Two of them._ Was Jesse… did he see Gabe as a father figure? After only a few months travelling together? Gabe didn’t have the chance to ask.

Jesse was asleep. Gabe absentmindedly pulled the serape up to the boy’s chin and gently ruffled Jesse’s hair.

“Sleep well, _Jessito.”_

|===|

Gabe had fallen asleep sometime late into the night, and he awoke to Jesse shaking his shoulder.

“Mornin’, Gabe!”

He groaned and rubbed the tiredness from his eyes. Gabe sat up from his slumped position and stretched out his sore back muscles.

“Good morning, Jesse.”

He scratched the hair buried beneath his beanie when Jesse sneezed. Gabe raised an eyebrow and took a closer look at the boy. Upon closer inspection, Jesse seemed a bit paler than usual.

Gabe brought a hand to Jesse’s forehead. He didn’t actually know what the “right” and “wrong” temperature was, but he was pretty sure a child shouldn’t feel clammy or sweaty in sixty degree morning weather.

“Jesse, I think you might have a cold.”

Gabe reached for his backpack and rummaged through the pockets. He found his first aid-kit, but it only had bandages and hydrogen peroxide. Nothing that could cure an illness. Gabe pulled out a crumpled map next and scanned the area for the nearest town. He pointed to a red dot a few miles from where they were.

“We gotta get you something to cure that cold. Chicken soup or medicine if we’re lucky.”

Jesse nodded and they set out without haste, though Gabe insisted that Jesse keep his serape wrapped around his shoulders for warmth.

As they walked, Gabe wondered if they’d be lucky enough to find anything in ruins of the town. In the late stages of the war, when more and more people realized that they were doomed, the most valuable places were looted first. Pharmacies, gun shops, even hardware stores were left barren. Unexpired, child-safe medicine would be a miracle at this point, but Gabe wouldn’t tell Jesse that.

After half a mile, Jesse was starting to drag his feet and Gabe had to carry him.

When they reached the outskirts of the town, Gabe felt dread build in his gut. They were approaching something less the size of a town and something more like a _city.And_ Gabe’s trepidation stemmed from the fact that the places most populated still tended to have the largest hordes.

The nearest office building was unlocked, so they stole a rolling chair to push Jesse on. (Not that Gabe would admit his arms were getting sore.) They couldn’t find a pharmacy, but a small grocery store was the next best thing. Gabe stopped in front of the store and tried to push the doors open.

“It’s locked.”

Jesse had his face pressed up against the window besides the door. “What do we do now?”

Gabe hummed in thought...

The chair shattered the window easier than Gabe thought it would. He climbed in first, then picked up Jesse and set him down away from the broken glass.

“Remember that vandalism is usually wrong, Jesse.”

“Okay, Gabe.”

The two of them wandered the empty aisles, only finding expired food and a fully looted medicine section. Gabe was about to kick a wall in frustration when Jesse suddenly started tugging on his hoodie.

“Gabe, look.”

He pointed at the large, circular mirror above the doorway. They weren’t alone.

It was one of _them,_ one of the mutants.

Gabe pushed Jesse to the floor and ducked down before that thing could see them. In the silence of the empty store, Gabe could hear the thing’s low, wet groan.

He reached for his mask and Jesse immediately disapproved.

_“Gabe, no.”_

Jesse’s whisper was louder than he meant, because the thing heard him. Gabe could hear it’s wet footsteps grow closer. His bit his lip.

“I still have to protect us, Jesse.”

Then Gabe emerged from the aisle. The monster stood before him. It was a disgusting greenish color and had no visible face. To think that it used to be human.

“Gabe!” Jesse shouted.

But he didn’t reach for the mask again. Gabe let the mutant get close before promptly kicking it in the face. It felt soft beneath his boot, and crumpled from the force of Gabe’s kick.

Jesse ran out from the aisle and stood besides Gabe.

“Is… is it dead?”

Gabe nudged it with his foot, and felt it twitch. He wrinkled his nose and quickly ushered Jesse out of the store.

|===|

They spent all day looking for something valuable. Gabe couldn’t believe it when their last option, an abandoned food truck left on the edge of a bridge, yielded _nothing._ Meanwhile, Jesse was getting worse and worse. Gabe finally snapped and told the boy to cover his ears. Gabe took out his frustrations by shouting obscenities while repeatedly slamming the truck’s door.

A low, mechanical whirring sound interrupted his fury.

Gabe frantically pulled Jesse away as a broken omnic missing its legs and half its face crawled from beneath the food truck.

It’s long, metal fingers reached for Jesse, and Gabe kicked the thing off the edge of the bridge.

“Gabe, there’s more!”

Jesse pointed at the horde crawling from and beneath the cars on the bridge. It was an amalgam of shattered omnics and mutated humans, and Gabe must’ve disturbed all of them. Too late, he realized that he lead himself and Jesse right into the hornet’s nest.

Gabe swore viciously as he swept Jesse up into his arms and ran. The horde followed them to the end of the bridge and back into the city. Gabe leaped over a mutant, which was no easy feat with a child in tow. And Gabe tried, but he couldn’t shake off the horde.

Eventually he rounded a corner and came to a dead end. They were surrounded by two brick buildings with no fire escape, and a fence too tall to climb. The only thing in the alley was an old parked car.

Jesse stared at the shadows of the encroaching horde. “Are we done for, Gabe?”

“Not yet.” Gabe ripped the car door open and set Jesse inside.

“No!” Jesse grabbed Gabe’s sleeves. “Don’t leave me here again, Gabe! I can fight with you. I promise I’m strong enough.”

Gabe didn’t want to risk looking into Jesse’s eyes and tell him _no_ again. So he pulled Jesse into a tight hug.

He whispered, _“I’m sorry, Jesse.”_

Gabe pressed the lock from inside the car and shut the door. Jesse shouted his name from behind the glass and Gabe felt the guilt weigh down on him.

He was going to have to break his promise.

Gabe ripped the mask from his belt and ran his thumb over the surface. There was a little scratch from where Jesse had thrown the rock at it. Gabe squeezed his eyes shut.

“Keep it together, Reyes,” Gabe spoke to himself, “you have to. For him.”

Gabe didn’t look back at Jesse as he put the mask on.

|===|

Jesse pounded on the window.

He watched helplessly as Gabe pulled out his mask and the Reaper appeared. He pressed his forehead against the cold window and stared at the floor of the car. Jesse tugged the serape tighter around his shoulders and quietly whispered to himself, “Gabe...you promised.”

Jesse didn’t look up once the gunshots started. It wasn’t worth it.

The sounds were almost deafening, reverberating in the close confines of the alley. And when the car was rocked and those gunshots sounded too close, Jesse knew one of the monsters made it to the car. He hated how the Reaper would protect him only out of instinct because Jesse didn’t want _him,_ he wanted _Gabe_ to be with him.

Eventually the gunshots stopped and Jesse dared to look up. Everything beyond the line of the car was a wasteland of bloodied corpses and scrap metal. It was disgusting and vile, but Jesse couldn’t believe his eyes.

He was gone. Reaper was _gone._ Nowhere to be seen.

Jesse choked on a sob and wondered if he was going to be abandoned again. He sat with his back to the car door and thought about the father he never met, about the mother he’d never get to see again, and about how Gabe found him and how Gabe might now leave him.

Jesse didn’t know how much time passed before there was a tapping sound on the window. For a second, he was afraid it was another monster. But when Jesse looked up, it was _Reaper._

He didn’t know whether or not to cry or punch this stupid demon jerk-butt in the mask.

It turned out he didn’t have to do either. Jesse had never seen him do it before, didn’t think he even _could,_ but the Reaper reached up and pulled the mask off his face.

Jesse watched as the specter was enveloped in a cloud of black smoke, and Gabe took his place, looking just was bewildered as Jesse was.

Jesse quickly opened the door and hugged Gabe’ torso.

The man knelt down and hugged him back. “Are you okay?”

Jesse felt tears swell in his eyes. “Where did you go? I thought ya were gonna leave me all alone again.”

Gabe rubbed Jesse’s back gently. “I’m so sorry, _Jessito._ I’m so sorry. But he- _I_ had an idea. I must’ve not been thinking clearly, because I would never leave you alone.”

Jesse buried his face in Gabe’s hoodie. He asked again, “Where’d you go?”

Gabe pulled Jesse away and reached into his hoodie pocket. He pulled out the fruits of his labor; a bottle of children’s benadryl and a can of chicken soup.

He re-pocketed the stuff and pressed kiss to Jesse’s forehead.

“I’m so sorry, Jesse. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jesse rubbed the wetness in his eyes on Gabe’s sleeve and smiled. “I’m jus’ glad yer okay.”

Jesse breathed in the familiar scent of smoke and pine. “I love ya, Gabe.”

The man chuckled softly. “I love you too, Jesse.”

 


	2. 996 Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Marceline is a vampire, but how about an immortal half-demon werewolf?
> 
> (Also, thank you all for reading!)

Jesse decided to bring his guitar with him this time. His annual trips had gotten too quiet for his tastes, despite how different the rest of the world was nine-hundred and ninety-six years after the end of the war.

And Jesse had to say, he was quite blessed. He’d been living for a thousand years, and yet he still barely looked a day over seventeen. So with all the time in the world, Jesse wandered through the land at his own leisurely pace. By day, he traveled like any other adventuring wanderer with his trusty revolver, hat, and frayed serape. By night, he took on the form of an unearthly wolf, too large and strong to be normal and too intelligent to be a real animal.  

The knowledge that his absentee blood-father was a demon worked wonders too.

But Jesse didn’t give a damn about that guy. The man that raised him and loved him and protected him for as long as he could now lived in his very own mountain range.

Said mountains peaked up from the horizon three days into Jesse’s quest.

Another two days and Jesse made it to the mountains. He wasn’t afraid of the barren lands that covered the mountains. The dead, gnarled tree branches reminded him of familiar smoky wisps. The fact that nothing could grow here and nothing could live in the mountains didn’t scare him either. He didn’t even fear the legends and myths about the mountains and its sole inhabitant. Whoever wandered into the mountains died an untimely death, but not Jesse.

The ancient, demonic man that lived in solitude in the heart of the mountains didn’t scare him. Not anymore.

Jesse found climbing the mountain easier in his wolf form, and his expert nose found the cave opening in no time, even though _he_ always tried to move around the entrance to keep intruders out. Or probably just Jesse, since no one else was dumb enough to venture into the mountains. But Jesse always reasoned that if a man who could phase through walls needed an entrance, then he must've wanted company. 

He still felt no fear while walking through the dark corridors of the mountain’s interior. He even whistled a short tune as his footsteps echoed across the corridors.

Jesse soon found himself in the heart of the mountain. Centuries worth of conquest and death-bringing had garnered quite the treasure trove. The skulls of slain dragons and demons, the hearts of greedy men, and the fangs of monsters laid in heaps on the floor. The swords, shields, and armor of fallen adventurers and warriors decorated the walls. There was a cold, dead draft in the air and barely any lighting, but the place was too familiar to Jesse.

He had know these mountains back when they had trees and grass and life inhabiting them. And when he heard tales of huge swaths of land dying all at once, he went to investigate. Jesse thought he'd get to fight an evil monster or even a malevolent nature spirit, but found something both much better and far worse. 

He cupped his mouth and called out, _“Oh, Reapy_ , I’m back!”

Immediately, a shadow seemed to melt out of the wall and twist into the shape of a man. His black, hooded trench-coat and clawed gloves hadn’t changed at all in a thousand years.

His voice rumbled like the whispers of the dead speaking all at one.

 _“What are_ you _doing back here?”_

Jesse chuckled and spread his arms out, as if expecting a hug.

“Now I spent about a good week gettin’ here, so how’s about some love, huh?”

The Reaper rumbled in displeasure. _“Damned ingrate.”_

Jesse shrugged and chuckled. “Hey now, I’m plenty grateful. I’m here, ain’t I?

The Reaper glided across the floor until he was face to face with Jesse.

“I should just kill you now to leave me alone.”

Jesse tipped his hat at the Reaper and smiled smugly. “But cha’ won’ now, will ya? Cause do I have a few helluva souvenirs.”

Jesse revealed the backpack he’d been carrying the entire time. The Reaper let him dig around in it before pulling out a jar of small, glowing orbs

The Reaper tilted his head in interest. Jesse smirked at him.

“That’s right. The souls of an entire evil vampire coven. Now how’s about that?”

The Reaper immediately snatched the jar out of Jesse’s hands and ripped the lid off. He didn’t need to remove his mask to eat, he never did, he simply just absorb the souls into his body. When the Reaper was done, he practically purred in satisfaction.  

Jesse asked, “Ya gonna kill me now?”

Even with the mask, the Reaper still managed to glare at him.

_“Fine.”_

Jesse smiled before pulled the guitar off his back. It was a beat-up acoustic, like the one from so many years ago. Jesse strummed lazily, filling the empty, lonely halls with music.

The Reaper hissed at him. “What are you doing?”

Jesse winked at him. “I’m just trying ta liven things up in here. It’s so quiet, I dunno how you can stand it.”

The Reaper grumbled in displeasure, but didn’t kill Jesse.

So the guitar continued to be played as Jesse took his time walking around the mountain.

“So ya know, I’ve started goin’ steady with the Prince Shimada of the Criminal Kingdom again.”

Jesse couldn’t see him, but knew that the Reaper was following him, watching closely. But he didn’t interrupt, so Jesse continued.

“He’s a gorgeous fighter too, real powerful with his mighty spirit dragon magic stuff. He’s a real charmer, I’m sure you’ll love him.”

Jesse spent the day just walking and talking. Telling the Reaper all about his travels and of the outside world, because the Reaper didn’t like leaving his solitude unless it was to hunt for some souls. And telling him reminded Jesse of when Gabe was still around.

Gabe loved listening to Jesse’s solo adventures. He was so proud when Jesse killed his first monster and defended himself from his first encounter with a vampire.

Not for the first time, Jesse wondered if Gabe could hear him from beneath the Reaper’s mask. It would’ve been nice to know, but whenever Jesse asked about it, the Reaper would get touchy and try to maim him.

So the best Jesse could do was tell his tales, play the songs Gabe taught him to play, and hope for the best. They’d be an unstoppable duo if only Jesse could just have Gabe back.

But Gabe was buried beneath the Reaper, and the Reaper Jesse was willing to deal with.

|===|

The Reaper knew what day it was. Every year on the same damned day that little brat came to him. He didn’t want to ask Reaper for power or revenge, he didn’t want to trade his soul for the Reaper’s mercenary skills, he just came and _talked._

He ran his mouth as if they were best friends. He spoke as if Reaper was supposed to _know_ him. It was so strange because there was something he still couldn’t figure out.

For some strange reason, he didn’t mind it as much when this kid entered his home, unlike any other foolish trespasser. He actually _didn’t_ want to kill the nuisance that came back to him every year. And the boy never aged a day too, much like the Reaper himself, ensuring his annual visits. And when the Reaper tried to occasionally maim him, it was only half-heartedly.

He concluded that it was only poorly-suppressed curiosity. He wanted to understand why he felt something deep within his mind begin to stir whenever his annual visitor came back. The _thing_ in his subconscious was something that Reaper wasn’t familiar with, and it brought feelings that the Reaper didn’t understand.

When the boy, _Jesse,_ started talking about his _love life_ of all things, why did he sit idly by and listen? Why was something telling him that he should feel _proud,_ of all things? He should be trying to rip the kid’s tongue out to silence him instead, but he never did.

Why did Reaper keep track of the boy’s visits. Why did he find the sound of an acoustic guitar familiar?

He couldn’t figure it out, and didn’t really want to.

And yet, he couldn’t help himself from following the brat around his mountain. He felt like if he chased after this little oddity, the painful stirring in the back of his mind would go away.

And when it was time for his visitor to leave, Reaper watched him walk calmly out of the cave’s exit, as if he hadn’t just strolled out of the clutches of death itself, and not even for the first time. Then the lurid moonlight shone down on the retreating figure. The light illuminated the boy’s bright red serape, and the Reaper was struck with an image so vivid it felt more like a memory.

He saw a little boy covered in dirt and scrapes with the same red serape draped around his shoulders. He was looking up at the Reaper with eyes full of awe and hope, as if he had just found a safe haven in a storm. It filled Reaper’s chest with warmth that he immediately wanted to claw out of himself.

He blinked once, twice, and suddenly the image was gone. The Reaper saw a massive wolf making it’s way down his mountain, but that also seemed right. So without looking back, Reaper returned to his lair. The image was quickly pushed down into the back of his mind where it belonged.

 


End file.
